


Finds a Way

by lucymonster



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Family Issues, MayThe4th Treat, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-16 06:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/pseuds/lucymonster
Summary: Only a handful of weeks ago, they’d still thought Ben had picked up some kind of illness: nausea, weight gain, persistent fatigue. The alternative had never occurred to them. It had never occurred to anyone,obviously, because human male anatomy can’t support … but it hardly matters now. They’ve already argued that point with every specialist who’s touched their case, and it hasn’t slowed Ben’s gestation one iota.





	Finds a Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambiguously](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/gifts).



‘Do you think we should get married?’ Ben asks.

He’s flat on his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling with his feet in Rey’s lap and a pinched, anxious look on his face. His pregnant belly balloons between them. They say black’s a slimming colour, but there’s no optical illusion in the galaxy that stands a chance against the way that rounded bulge distends the front of his tunic.

Only a handful of weeks ago, they’d still thought Ben had picked up some kind of illness: nausea, weight gain, persistent fatigue. The alternative had never occurred to them. It had never occurred to anyone, _obviously_ , because human male anatomy can’t support … but it hardly matters now. They’ve already argued that point with every specialist who’s touched their case, and it hasn’t slowed Ben’s gestation one iota.

He’s sore and pregnant and even moodier than usual, and as Rey sits rubbing his swollen feet, she’s seized for what feels like the millionth time this week by the inescapable sense that her life is spiralling out of control.

‘I don’t think we should rush into anything just because of … you know,’ she says. ‘There’s really no stigma about the wedlock thing these days, not on any world where we’d want to raise a child.’ There’s also much more low-hanging fruit than that for would-be nosy parkers to pick on, but she doesn’t bother saying so.

‘My mom always told me every kid needs two parents,’ says Ben. An ominous pause. ‘Usually right before she left.’

‘And this one will have two parents,’ says Rey, stepping deftly over that particular rabbit hole. It’s not exactly out of character for Ben to resent his mother and father, but the belligerent need to talk about them, _cry_ about them, is a whole new thing that started around the same time as the hormones. ‘I told you. Whether or not this kid is mine–’

‘It is yours.’ Indignant, now. ‘I haven’t been with anyone else.’

‘I believe you, but it’s not exactly a standard pregnancy, is it? It could be the Force. Or some random passing alien spawn. But _whether or not this kid is mine_ , I told you I’m going to be there and I meant it.’

She fills her voice with all the confidence she doesn’t feel, so that Ben can stop fretting and go back to enjoying his foot massage. The truth is that Rey, having never really been parented herself, isn’t wholly clear on what the job entails. And Ben – angry, bitter, reformed-but-only-barely Ben, despite all the progress he’s made in laying his family demons to rest – is not the first person she’d have picked as her offsider for the coming journey. But nobody ever asked her to pick. It is what it is.

And when she looks at Ben’s belly, when she puts her hand on the bulge and feels the glow of new life blossoming inside him, it’s not just apprehension she feels. Sometimes the two of them sit together, brainstorming baby names or browsing nursery catalogues, and Rey feels her existential dread slipping away as words like _miracle_ and _second chance_ sneak in. When he’s not busy having a hormone-fueled brat attack, Ben’s astonishingly committed to his upcoming parenthood. Getting rid of the child is the only thing he won’t consider.

She works her hands up his puffy ankles, and Ben closes his eyes and lets some of his tension drain away. ‘I just think it’d be nice,’ he says. ‘You know. If we were a proper family. Even with the nontraditional start.’

Family. Rey turns the word over in her head: it’s so familiar, and yet so completely novel. ‘Maybe it would be nice,’ she says. ‘It’s just … a lot, you know? I wish we had more time.’

Ben snorts. ‘Yeah, well, time’s the one thing we don’t have. We’re on the clock here, Rey. This kid’s starting to kick like a motherfucker.’

‘Is it kicking now?’

‘Put your hand on it and feel.’

She does. And for a bright, shining second, as her growing child squirms beneath her touch, she’s not uncertain at all.


End file.
